Rhonda: An Exercise in Irreverence
by zipple
Summary: Well, Ron always wanted to be special... Warnings: this story is on definite crack. Ok, I finally finished the damn thing, but before you celebrate, I just copped out. So there. Chalk it up to being the dumbest but most honest ending ever written.
1. Chapter 1

One morning Ron woke up.

Of course, the only thing spectacular about this was the fact that it was a Sunday morning, and he never woke up before 11 on Sundays.

Giving himself a proper scratch under the arm, he yawned and flung his feet over the side. He tried to stand up, but almost immediately, he fell over.

"Ah!" he cried, lying on the floor. He knew he was uncoordinated, but to fall out of bed when you're awake?

He tried getting up again, only to find that he couldn't keep his balance. Somehow, his center of gravity seemed to have shifted. Not all that unusual when you're a teenager, but this badly? Tottering up, he finally thought to glance down.

"BLOODY FUCK!"

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…

"Ron? What is it?" The door flew open, Harry stepped in, eyes going wide almost immediately. "Oh, uh. Sorry. I um, must have the wrong… room."

Clutching a pillow against his chest, Ron tried to disappear. Why did he have to sleep without a shirt on last night?

"No Harry, it's me."

Harry's eyes grew even wider. "Ron, you have…"

"Tits. Yea. And stop bloody staring!"

"Oh. Right."

Harry shot his eyes to the floor.

"And would you mind turning around?"

"Right."

Ron almost dropped the pillow until he realized which way Harry was facing. "And move away from the mirror?"

Harry moved again, this time taking the extra precaution of covering his eyes.

Ron fumbled for a shirt, struggling to maneuver without bumping his… assets too much. His pajama bottoms didn't even fit properly. They were threatening to fall off his hips at any moment.

For a moment, he thought of asking for something of Harry's, since Harry was much smaller than Ron. Or at least, Ron as a male. He thought better of it. He didn't want Harry of all people to get his jollies knowing that a girl was wearing his clothes. Awkwardly, he grabbed his Gryffindor tie and cinched the waist tighter.

"I'm, uh, decent now."

Harry turned around, biting his lip. Oh gods, he was laughing at him. Her. Whatever. "Sorry mate," he choked out, giving him a look that almost passed for apologetic. "But you've got tits!"

"Yea, I kind of noticed."

"How did this happen?"

"I don't know, and I don't care! How do I change back?"

They considered this for a moment, pondering the floor.

"Um, Ron, you wouldn't happen to be…"

"Happen to be what?"

"You know. Um… a poo pirate?"

"Poo pirate?"

"Yea! You know!" Harry waved his hand about, desperately looking for the word. "A poofter! A bender! A beaver leaver!"

"What? NO!"

"A sausage jockey! An uphill gardener! A friend of Dorothy!"

"Who the hell is Dorothy?"

"Fudge nudger! Back-door lover! Sausage slipper! Pole smoker! Nutley Freeholder! A resident of Succasunna! Arse bandit! Backgammon player! Brown hatter!"

"Mate, none of those make any sense!"

"Salad tosser! Turd burglar! Pilot of the chocolate runway! Muff diver!"

"Wrong one."

"Hershey Highwayman! Bum boy! Bone queen! Greek! Moffie and Moff! Shrimp queen! Uranian! Protein queen!"

"How the hell do you know all these terms?"

"Kitchen cleaner! Golden boy! Dilly boy! Duchess! Chuffer! Waiter! Corn dogger! Explorer of the forbidden gateway! French tickler! Watch queen! Hide the pickle player! Major pain in the ass! Twinkle toes! Rimadonna! Harry hoofter-" For a moment, Harry went pale. "Scratch that last one."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, I was thinking, maybe this was like, a side-effect or something. Like, if you're into that, you might spontaneously, like, change… or something."

"I think you have it confused for something else."

"Well, excuse me for being a little confused!"

"Well at least you're not the one with bloody fucking tits!"

"What's going on? I heard yelling." Hermione said, bursting into the room. "Oh! Harry, you didn't tell me that you had a girlfriend!"

Ron eeped. Damn, his voice had gotten really high.

"Um, that's not my girlfriend, Hermione. That's Ron."

Hermione blinked once. Twice. Three times. If anyone would be calm about the situation, it would be good, old, trusting, level-headed Hermione.

Who was currently on the floor giggling like mad.

Ron flung himself on the bed. "Not you too!"

"I'm sorry," Hermione gasped. She didn't even try to look sincere about it. "But you! A girl!" With that, she dissolved into incoherent laughter. Somehow, this killed off Harry's composure as well. He fell to the floor with a WHUMP, laughing so hard that he started hiccupping. Ron hoped that Harry had broken a rib or something on the way down.

"I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione said, struggling for air. "It's just that. You. Are a girl!"

"So?"

"So? It took you FOUR YEARS to figure out that I was a girl!"

Ron glared. Somehow though, the pretty little lips he now had turned it into more than a pout than a threat. "Did you turn me into a girl, Hermione?!"

"No, although now that I think of it, it would have been a really good idea."

"How do I change back?" Ron gasped. If Hermione hadn't done it, then how did this happen? "I mean, I can't go to class tomorrow with these!" Ron grabbed a hold of his chest. Ouch. Too hard. "And will you bloody stop staring?" he yelled at Harry.

"Right," Harry snickered, looking away.

"Look, Ron," Hermione said, taking on a no-nonsense tone. About bloody time. "We don't know how this happened, but I'm sure that Madame Pomfrey will know what to do."

"I can't go downstairs looking like this!" he shrieked- no bellowed. Think manly thoughts. Mountain climbing. Belching. Totally. Definitely manly yelling.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We have an invisibility cloak, remember?"

"Yea, we'll use that," Harry muttered distantly. "I'll get it in a titty."

"HARRY!"

"JIFFY! I MEAN JIFFY!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…" Madame Pomfrey muttered, taking Ron's temperature. "Are you sure you didn't take anything? What's your medical history? Have you always been a redhead?"

"What does being a redhead have to do with it?"

"Nothing. It's just a lovely shade, that's all."

Ron groaned.

Tapping a hairpin against her teeth, Madame Pomfrey's face twisted in concentration. She circled Ron a bit, poking at cheeks, pinching fingers and measuring his hair with her forearm. "Oh this simply won't do!" she exclaimed, shuffling off to her study.

Harry raised an eyebrow, Hermione simply shrugged. Ron crossed his arms over his chest, which was a little more of a hassle then before. Under the breast? Over the breast? On the breast? He tried out different positions, then stopped when he saw Harry staring at his chest again. Bugger.

Madame Pomfrey emerged from her study, hauling a very heavy book in her arms. Gods, she could barely lift the bloody monster!

She gave a great heave, landing the book on a nearby table. An impressive amount of dust rose from its wake. The three students just about keeled over from coughing, but Madame Pomfrey took no notice as she started flipping through the book.

"Gender-bending, gender-stretching, AH! Gender-switching!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione all raised one eyebrow.

"You see, Mr.-Miss- er Ron," Madame Pomfrey stopped for a second. "By the way, you might want to consider a different name to go by. If I had the choice, I'd say a floral name is always a good way to go. Rose, Daisy, Petunia…"

"Moving on," Harry said, just a bit too sharply.

"Why would I need a new name?" Ron said. "Can't you change me back?"

"Um. No," Madame Pomfrey sighed. "You see, what happened is genetic."

"GENETIC?!"

"Yes. Right here. Very rare though. It only happens about every 100 years or so, but there you go!" Madame Pomfrey adjusted her glasses. "Ahem. 'Gender-switching is very rare, but very powerful. Only occurring once a century, and usually only to a pureblood whose family has had gender-switch before. Once switched, the change back to the original gender must happen naturally. Attempts to restore the gender pre-maturely will cause permanent malformations, such as…'" Madame Pomfrey closed the book.

"What? What malformations?"

"Let's just say that 'Itsy' is a horribly unfortunate nickname to live with," came the reply.

"So what does that mean? That we can't do a bloody thing?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Hermione giggled. "We can paint your toe nails, give you facials…"

"I'm sure Lavender would love to take you shopping," Harry cringed as Ron shot him a glare that screamed Avada Kedarva. "What? She probably would!"

"I'm sorry dear," Madame Pomfrey said, patting Ron on the back, "but I'm afraid you're stuck as a girl until your body decides to go back to normal."

Ron dropped his head into his hands and let out a groan. Of all the things to happen to a bloke…


	3. Chapter 3

"Quit it!" Ron yelped, batting Hermione's hands away.

"Oh honestly, Ron…da. If anyone is going to believe that you're a new student, they're going to have to believe you're a girl. You walk all wrong."

"But I'm not a girl!" Ron protested. "Besides! I have to go to the loo! And I don't even know how this equipment works!"

"That's easy!" Harry replied. "You just lift your leg and have at it." Both Ron and Hermione shot him looks of confusion, but for entirely separate reasons.

"You've thought this through, haven't you?" Ron whispered.

"Not very well," Hermione interrupted. "You lower your pants and sit down. Any idiot would know that."

Ron and Harry flushed a bit.

"Correction, most idiots would have known that."

"I gotta go!" Ron said, wiggling a bit. "Where is the loo?"

Harry opened his mouth.

"NOT Moaning Myrtle's."

He closed it.

"Honestly," Hermione said for the billionth time that morning. "Follow me."

Hermione grabbed Ron by the arm and drug him down the corridor. Right, right, left, another right. Finally they came to the girl's lavatory. Ron rushed inside, grabbing the nearest stall and struggling with his pajama bottoms. Why did he have to tie the knot so tight on his tie?

Finally undoing his pants, he reached down, grasped at nothing, swore, tried hovering over the seat, then remembered what Harry said and lifted his leg.

One brief cleaning spell later, Ron decided that Hermione hadn't been lying and vowed to use her method from then on.


	4. Chapter 4

There was the problem with the sleeping arrangements. The girl's dormitory was full. The boy's dormitory had Ron's bed. It was comfy. Ron liked it. It led to an awkward conversation with Seamus (who shared Harry's tit-staring habit) and Neville (who was too shy to look at Ron's tits, but thought he was very pretty), but they understood.

The problem wasn't obvious until bedtime. There hadn't been a problem with undressing before, but now…

"Um… Ron, don't take this the wrong way…" Neville muttered.

"Don't take what the wrong way?"

"But could you, not… I mean. I'm about to get ready for bed and you're there and…"

"So? We've shared a dorm for years! What is there left to see?"

"I-I th-think I'll just g-go change in the l-loo," Neville stammered, collecting his things and shutting the door quietly behind him.

"Ah, bugger," Ron muttered, turning over in his bed, laying his book over his face. He focused on the ticking of the clock. Tick. Tick. Tick… hm… His body twitched a bit to the beat. 'Ron. Ron. Ron Weasley!

Ron. Ron. Ron Weasley! Ron. Ron. Ron Weasley!'

"Hey, Ron?"

Ron felt a dip in the mattress.

He moved the book from his face. Seamus was giving him a funny look.

"Um, yea?"

"Are you really a bird now?"

Ron blinked. "Well duh."

"So your um… tits are real?"

"No," Ron said.

"No?"

"They're padded with goose feathers." Ron smacked Seamus with the book. "Of course they're real. Why?"

"I was just wondering if I could…" his voice trailed off suspiciously.

"Could what?"

"If I could maybe, you know, since we're both blokes and everything, so it's not really wrong… If I could, maybe kinda of sort of, you know… touch them?"

Somehow Ron's book flew directly out of Ron's hand and at Seamus's head, causing him to fall backwards.

"Not on your life, Finnegan," Ron growled.

"Just askin'. Yeesh," Seamus groaned, rubbing his head. "It's not like you're really a bird or anything."

"I'm getting sick of this," Ron muttered, jumping over Seamus and heading for the door.

"ALRIGHT!" Ron announced, striding over to the entrance of the Gryffindor common room. "HERE!" Flinging open his robes, Ron let the entire Gryffindor house get an eyeful of his rack. Several tea cups dropped. Neville, changed and squeaky clean, fainted.

"NOW THAT YOU'VE ALL SEEN MY RACK, GOODNIGHT!"

With that, Ron stormed up to his room. Seamus appeared half a second later, half-dressed and stumbling down the corridor. "PRICK!" he yelled back. "AT LEAST GIVE ME A PILLOW!"

Half of Seamus's bedding flew down the stairwell, scattering into the common room.

Harry, who had been dozing in front of the fire, turned around and watched as Hermione and Ginny plucked pillow feathers from their tea cups. A good percentage of the other girls were giggling while a good percentage of the boys seemed to be mixed between arousal and trauma. A feather landed on top of Harry's nose, tottering before drifting away.

"Uh, what did I miss?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Well, now you've done it."

The whole hall was staring at them. Well, actually, at Ron, who was sinking lower and lower in his seat.

"You just HAD to go and flash the entire Gryffindor house…" Hermione scolded.

"Shut up."

"Not to mention kicking Seamus and me out of our own dorm," Harry added.

"Sorry."

"Not to mention emotionally scarring us," Fred muttered.

"Almost as bad as the time when I walked in on Dad and Mum," George finished. For a moment, everyone's eyes went from Ron to George. "What?! I was ten!" Ron blinked, Ginny's eyes were wide, Fred looked a

little sick. "Hey! Look everyone! Ron has boobs!"

And now back to Ron. The next table over, a Hufflepuff boy grinned and waved. The another boy blew a kiss. Ron sunk lower. "Great," he muttered. "Even the Hufflepuffs are tittering at me." Everyone's eyes fell a notch from Ron's face. "Alright. Bad choice of words." Ron made another attempt at folding his arms over his chest, but only succeeded in accidentally trapping one breast between his forearms. "How did the news spread so bloody fast, anyway?"

"Well," Ginny said, taking a gulp of pumpkin juice, "Parvati told Padma who told Marietta who told Hannah who told Susan who told Orla who told Luna who told Rose who told Laura who told Eleanor who told Mandy who told Lisa who told Cho who told Daphne who told Millicent who told Pansy…" Ginny paused, shrinking a bit at Ron's murderous gaze. "I mean, no idea."

Ron sunk lower in his chair, spreading his legs rather than tucking them under the seat. Great. Just great.

That's when his old friends from the Hufflepuff table let out a collective gasp, which quickly dissolved into high-fives, cat calls and outright whooping laughter. Everyone raised an eyebrow. Hermione, always a quick thinker, ducked her head under the table for a quick inspection. Sure enough…

"Ron," Hermione said calmly setting back upright, "First rule of the day: underwear and uniform skirts go together very well."

Ron went red. Half of the male (and a few female) Gryffindor's heads went under the table.

Snapping his legs together, Ron gave the table a great big wallop with his fist. From underneath, several loud thuds and groans of pain could be heard.

Slowly, they began to re-emerge, gently rubbing at the back of their heads. Served them right, the slimy gits.

"Why did you have to give me such a small skirt, Hermione?" Ron whined, resolutely pressing his thighs together. "I don't see why I have to wear a skirt at all. The school knows I'm not a girl!"

"They're my old ones. I didn't have any others to spare. Besides, girls are required to wear skirts."

Ron glowered. He shrugged down into his chair again. Just like a teeter-totter, as soon as Ron sunk down, Hufflepuff heads went up.

"OH SOD OFF!" Ron bellowed. It sounded more like a screech, but Ron thought manly thoughts to balance it out. The Hufflepuffs snickered as Ron tried to adjust his skirt. Bloody fucking too fucking short fucking piece of bloody fucking fabric.

Fuck.

Ok, once more for good measure. Fuck six ways to Sussex.

"What are you looking at, Potter?" Ron snapped. Harry, who had been leaning back in his chair trying to glimpse under the table, fell out and landed with a thud on the floor. More snickers. "You act like you've never seen a… a… well, never seen _it _before."

"I haven't-"

"But Cho! You said-"

The Ravenclaw table seemed to lean a bit. Harry blushed as Cho shot him a ray of death. "Yea… about that…"

"BLOODY HELL, HARRY! ARE YOU SO HARD-UP THAT YOU'RE GOING TO OBSESS ABOUT YOUR BEST MATE'S TWAT?!"

Even the teachers popped their heads up at that one.

Somewhere, a pin dropped.

"Ok, so I'm a bloody virgin," Harry hissed. "Can we talk about this later, Ron?" His face was crimson. Served him right. Amid the snickering from the Slytherin table, Harry got off his ass and took his seat again. He kept his head down while he ate his porridge as if he had never seen food before.

"What are you all looking at?" Hermione yelled to the room, clutching her wand in her fist. Immediately, thousands of students turned away and become so interested with their food that you would have thought that gold had been baked right in.

They all ate in companionable silence. Well, as companionable as they could be at the moment anyway.

The silence was broken by giggling.

Really girly giggling.

Leaning over, everyone looked at Ginny, who was about fit to burst.

"I just realized what this means!" she cried, giving Ron a big wet kiss on the cheek. "I have a sister!"

Ron groaned.

"We can gossip! Do nails! Clothes! BOYS!"

Ron's face went directly into his porridge.


	6. Chapter 6 AKA Fuck you

Ron hated shoes. He hated books. He hated- well… everything. He left the breakfast table early to get his bags. Hermione, the thoughtful whack-job she was, found a pair of shoes for Ron to borrow.

In retrospect, stilettos left over from Halloween was probably not the best choice on your first official day as a girl.

One, two, fuck! A crack sent him sprawling. One, two, fuck! Goddamn boobs were over-balancing him. It took a good 20 minutes to get to the Gryffindor tower. Another ten just to get up the bloody stairs.

Ron stumbled out of the portrait, leaning heavily on the frame. A scrawny 3rd year heavily laden with books, quills and parchment came to a screeching halt.

"What the bloody hell are you looking at?" Ron hissed, tottering on the damn heels.

The 3rd year's eyes grew wide. "I- I just wanted to-um" He made a little gesture like he wanted to move around Ron, but he looked like a skittish little twit.

Ron fought to ask 'does this skirt make me look fat?' and then proceeded to think manly thoughts. Then, looking down, he noticed something every interesting about the 3rd year's feet.

Oh well. Any port in a storm.

"Hey, would you like to _not_ get the shit kicked out of you?"

The twit looked like he wanted to bolt, but then slowly nodded.

Ron dropped everything in his arms with a clatter. Sitting down beside the portrait, he yanked off the stilettos. Or tried to at least. How the hell do chicks stand these things?

"Take off your shoes. We're trading."

The 3rd year stared blankly.

"NOW!"

Ten minutes later, Ron was practically skipping down the hall. Or at least he would have if Hermione hadn't been nagging at him.

"I can believe you did that!"

"What? Want to walk comfortably?"

"You just abused your power on a 3rd year!"

"Yea well the little wanker deserved it."

Hermione sputtered. "Just because you're a prefect-"

Off in the distance, there was the distinct sound of a 3rd year tripping over his new stilettos.

"Well what good is being a prefect if you can't show a little authority."

"Oh I'll show you authority."

Ron and Hermione momentarily forgot their fight and looked in the direction of The Voice.

Snape was glaring. "In the classroom. Now!" Snape hissed. "You two have just cost Gryffindor 10 points."

Ron felt himself melt.

No, no. It was ok. Manly thoughts. Manly thoughts. He was just kinda sorta pissing himself in fear. That's what that sensation was.

Hm… He never noticed before how sexy Snape's walk was.

Ok Weasley, manly thoughts. Quidditch. Racing. Chicks in short skirts. Hm.. I'm a chick in a short skirt. If I bent over just right, maybe he'll notice-

BAD RON! BAD!

"Is there a problem, Weasley?"

Oh, so that was how Snape planned to look over the gender issue.

"Yea, come look me over-"

"Excuse me?"

Looking around, he noticed everyone was staring. And Snape was close enough to… if only he could extend his tongue-

How did Ron get from bullying a 3rd year out of his shoes to sucking Snape's nose into his mouth?

Hell if this author knows.

But let's just skip this part, since I'm not sure how to describe the scene without resorting to cat-calls, cheesy sexy adverbs and of course, Snape being viewed as sexually attractive. Which he isn't. Which is why Neville and Harry effective ended the lesson by spewing all over things. And we'll skip over the scene where Ron realizes that his female form is really attracted to slimy yet satisfying Slytherins. Goyle gets a crush and Malfoy really just needs a hug, cause we all know Lucius spent too much time on his hair to notice.

Moving right along, Harry's response (other than upchucking) is to go "BUT IT'S SNAPE!" a lot.

Ron calls Harry a petty virgin, Harry calls Ron a bitch and they resume not to talk for about a week.

Then we have a lovely episode where Ron has his-her-whatever first period. Half of the Gryffindor common room spontaneously blows up until Ron is sated with lots of chocolate, avocados, ice cream with strawberry jam and a weepy-chick flick marathon.

Hermione decides to go typical girl for a moment and recruit every girl (most especially Lavender and Ginny) to tackle Ron into a make-over. Hilarity ensues and Ron cries like a little bitty girl. Well, now like a pretty little bitty girl.

Harry decides that this indignity is too much for many bloke, even if he is a girl, and rescues Ron. On a vine and in a loincloth, if it should please you, the audience who can obviously tell that the author got a little bored in writing this story. And if you image that they have hot, incredible sex with all that, you're a very disturbed weirdo and you will personally be responsible for this story losing it's 'T' rating, you heartless monster.

But I digress. Plus I never really liked the Harry/Ron ship.

Ok, now I really digress. Truly. Honestly.

Nope. Not going to do it.

Yea, cause name calling is SOOOO mature!

NAHNAHNAHNAHNAHNAHNAHNAHNAHNAHNAH! I CAN'T HEAR YOU!

"………"

Ok, fine! They have sex! But it's my way, you hear me? Harry is pathetic in bed. I mean really pathetic. What do you expect from a 17 year old virgin? His job lasts all of six seconds and he for Merlin's sake, he fell off half way through. On top of that, Ron's been making the rounds with so many Slytherins that he didn't even feel anything. We're talking about a hotdog down a hallway here, folks. But then again, Harry's first impressive broom he owned got hacked to bits by the Whomping Willow and the Firebolt… well let's just say that he keeps bragging about that since nothing that came attached naturally will get him very far. Then afterwards there was that awkward conversation about how they should just be friends. And then there was crying. One out of pity of being a bad lay and the other because he was a girl. But I won't tell you which is which.

Now see what you made me do? Well at least I destroyed all of your lewd "Marry me Harry" fantasies. Some good had to come out of this.

Now for the stunning, over-the-top, fantasically-amazing, oh-my-god-I-can't-believe-you-can-do-that-with-a-monkey-without-hurting-youself conclusion!

--

"YAY! I'M A GUY AGAIN!"

Slytherins: "Bugger"

Ginny: "Great. I'm the only girl. AGAIN."

Hermione: "Like there was much of a change anyway."

Harry: "No more PMS, getting kicked out of my own dorm, no more tampons for bookmarks…"

3rd year in stilettos: "Can I have my shoes back now?"

Ron: "No."

Draco: "Oh dear fucking god! I'm a girl!"

Author: "Eh, go write that one yourselves. I need a beer."

The End.

PS: Anyone who wants to add to Harry's "rant" in chapter 1, send me a message or review and I'll add it in. The more creative, the better.


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